


Why can't this be love?

by AndalusianSunshine



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Real Events, M/M, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 17:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20567861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndalusianSunshine/pseuds/AndalusianSunshine
Summary: When Sergio returns home from a particularly exhausting away game, he really just wants to be left alone and sleep for a week, but when he finds Gerard sitting on his doorstep, his night takes a very different turn.





	Why can't this be love?

**Author's Note:**

> Gerard gave away a penalty that ended up costing Barca the victory and Sergio made a completely unnecessary mistake that lead to Madrid conceding a goal, so it generally wasn't the best weekend for the boys and i just really needed to work out my feelings through fic. This is the result of it.
> 
> Title borrowed from _Why can't this be love? _ by Van Halen which probably isn't the most imagnative title but i was listening to the song while writing and it sort of stuck.

Finally in the dressing room Sergio drops down in front of his locker and reaches for a towel, barely able to lift his arms with how heavy they feel. There’s a bone-deep ache in his body and he feels so tired he’s not even exhausted anymore, he just feels nothing at all.

He unlaces his boots and kicks them haphazardly away from his aching feet, fumbles with the tape around his ankles until it ends up in a pile of shreds and stripping out of his dirt-stained kit suddenly seems like too much of a daunting task, so he grapples for his phone instead, desperately hoping for a message he knows won’t be there, the blank screen taunting him mercilessly, the little blinking light depressingly dark and he hates how much it hurts, how much the emptiness in his chest makes him feel like he can’t breathe properly anymore. 

He almost types out a message, but even with his fingers still hovering over the screen it makes him feel too needy, too desperate, like he’s slowly losing grip of himself and what would he even write anyway? It’s not like they ever just talk. All they ever do is fuck, once in a while, when it’s convenient and neither of them has anything better to do, and it’s certainly not Gerard’s fault he’s caught feelings somewhere along the way.

He listlessly strips out of his kit and drags himself towards the showers, not bothering to take his shampoo or anything else because what’s the point anyway? He lingers under the water, lets the hot spray scald down his back and tries to ignore how every muscle in his body pulls and strains and protests with every sudden movement. Someone yells at him to hurry up but he’s too tired to try and identify the voice, just lets the lecture rain down on him, because he has no strength left to defend himself either.

_I miss you, _ he types out on the plane, while they’re waiting for take off, stares at the small letters for so long that his eyes begin to hurt.

_I want to see you. _ Just another message never sent. Impossible, when even a simple hello seems like too much, when random texts have never been part of their rules.

He arrives home in the early hours of the morning, the neighborhood drenched in a darkness that rivals his mood and he doesn’t notice the dark shape sitting on his front steps until he almost trips over him.

“Hi.”

He startles violently at the sound of Gerard’s voice, his heart suddenly almost beating out of his chest and he feels ridiculously close to tears. “What are you doing here?” he croaks.

“I wanted to see you,” Gerard scrambles to his feet, arms reached out halfway before he thinks better of it and lets them drop to his side again, awkwardly standing in front of Sergio instead.

And Sergio wishes he could just push into his arms and hug him, could just ask to be held, but it’s just not what they do and he’s never hated their arrangement more. “I’m not in the mood for sex,” he says tiredly. “I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing.”

“I didn’t come for that,” Gerard answers quietly and he suddenly looks inexplicably shy.

Sergio doesn’t really know how to handle that.

They end up in Sergio’s kitchen, sitting at the counter with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate in front of them and he can’t shake the unsettling feeling that something is inevitably about to change between them.

He carefully blows on the hot liquid, trying to buy himself some time. “Did you see the goal?” he asks eventually, because it feels much safer to talk about football than to touch on the reasons why Gerard flew all the way to Madrid in the middle of the night.

“Yeah,” Gerard nods. “Not one of your finest moments.”

That’s one way of putting it,” Sergio snorts. “ I can’t believe i fucked up this badly.”

“Shit happens,” Gerard shrugs. “And you’ve played well afterwards,” he scoots his chair towards the counter, inadvertently ends up closer to Sergio, their arms almost touching and Sergio wishes he could just lean in and close the distance. He’s been craving Gerard’s touch all night.

“Not sure that’s gonna count for anything,” Sergio licks the cream off his spoon, wraps his hands around the warm mug, mostly to keep himself from reaching out and touching Gerard. “They’re gonna rip me apart either way.”

“You really shouldn’t listen to what people say. It’s not healthy.” Gerard frowns into his drink. “Did you see the penalty?”

“Yeah,” Sergio takes a first tentative sip, almost manages not to burn his tongue. “Nothing you could have done about it. It’s a shit rule.”

“Don’t i know it,” Gerard chuckles humourlessly. “Definitely not our best weekend.”

“We’ve gone through worse,” Sergio leans back in his chair, purposely brushes his leg against Gerard’s, the brief contact sending a pleasant shiver up his spine. 

Gerard nods. “And it’s not like it’s gonna matter in the long run anyway.”

“True,” Sergio yawns and drains the rest of his mug, suddenly feels incredibly tired. “You mind if we go to bed?” 

"Pick whatever you need," Sergio gestures towards his closet and it feels so different having Gerard in his bedroom like this, without half their clothes strewn across the floor, for once not caught between hungry kisses and roaming hands. 

He feels almost shy as he strips out of his clothes and changes into shorts and a loose-fitting tank top, watching Gerard take off his shirt out of the corner of his eye. 

“Is it ok if i wear this?” Gerard holds up one of Sergio’s favorite shirts and he really just wants to tell him that he’d happily let him wear all of his clothes, but instead he only nods, his throat too clogged up to speak.

“Thanks,” Gerard pulls the soft cotton over his head and climbs into bed on the left side, as if he’s done it a thousand times already, like it means nothing that he just casually remembered how Sergio prefers to sleep on the right and the domesticity of it all steals Sergio’s breath away.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” he croaks and escapes to the bathroom, because suddenly there’s something bubbling in his chest that feels dangerously close to a love confession. 

“This is weird,” Sergio says shyly as he crawls into bed, his little escape to the bathroom having done nothing to calm his frayed nerves and his heart is beating so loudly, he’s half afraid Gerard might hear. 

“Bad weird?” Gerard asks and his voice sounds weirdly off.

“No,” Sergio snuggles deeper under the covers and turns his head towards Gerard. “Good weird,” he mumbles and barely resists the urge to hide his face in his pillow, because it already feels like he’s admitted entirely too much, but Gerard's happy smile gives him just enough courage to ask the question that's been burning on the tip of his tongue all night. “Why are you here?”

Gerard rolls onto his side to face Sergio, props himself up on his elbow. “After what happened last night, the penalty, all the criticism … i just really needed to see you,” his voice drops to a mere whisper. “You’re the only one who understands how it feels and i know it was selfish to just show up like this. I should have at least called first. I’m sorry.”

“No… it’s not… ,” Sergio looks up, his heart fluttering nervously in his chest. "You know i almost texted you after the match," he admits, feels himself drown in Gerard’s blue eyes.

"Why didn't you?" 

"Because it's not something we do. We both agreed this wouldn’t ever lead to anything beyond sex, so,” Sergio shrugs helplessly. “Not sure what we’re doing here is a particularly good idea.”

“I know,” Gerard looks a little crestfallen. “But have you ever considered that we might have been wrong back then? Maybe it’s about time we change a few things.”

"Like what?” Sergio breathes and he hardly dares to hope.

“What i’m trying to say is...,” Gerard takes a deep breath, reaching out and Sergio feels it all the way down to his toes when Gerard’s hand lands on his hip, warm and heavy and devastatingly intimate. “I want us to spend more time together and not just because we’re fucking. I want you to text me whenever you feel like it or call me or whatever. God, I think about you all the time and it kills me that i always have to pretend i want sex just so i can see you,” he trails off and Sergio hates how crushed he looks, his heart almost bursting with affection. “I want more, Sergio.”

“Are you suggesting we start dating?” Sergio asks incredulously.

“I kinda am,” Gerard smiles shyly and drags him closer, close enough that their noses are almost touching, their lips only inches apart. “So what do you say?”

“I…,” Sergio starts, but with Gerard and nearly everything he’s ever wanted suddenly so close, coherent thought is really just an impossibility.

“Sergio?” There’s an uncertainty to Gerard’s voice, a vulnerability that quickly pulls Sergio out of his daze.

“I’d love to,” he smiles and closes the distance between them, his hands coming up to frame Gerard’s face as he kisses him, soft and gently, unlike any of their other kisses before.

Sergio wakes to the smell of coffee and the sound of the shower, smiling happily when he rolls over to find a mug on his nightstand, a neatly folded noted tucked underneath it. 

He snuggles back under the covers and buries his face in Gerard’s pillow, breathing in the smell of his skin until curiosity gets the better of him and he reaches for the thin sheet of paper, carefully unfolding it and he can’t suppress the surprised laugh at the sight of Gerard’s blocky handwriting.

**Will you be my boyfriend?** Two checkboxes underneath. **Yes. No. **

With a fond smile he grapples for the pen Gerard must have left for him, making his cross and hastily scribbling something underneath, refolding the scrap of paper before he can change his mind again. 

He leans back in the pillows to wait for Gerard.

“Took you long enough,” Sergio is twirling the note around in his fingers when Gerard finally comes back into the room, towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still damp. He holds out the paper with a grin. “How very high school of you.”

Gerard laughs as he takes the note, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “You seemed a little confused last night, so i thought i’d make it easier for you.”

“You’re an idiot,” Sergio grins and tugs on Gerard’s wrist. “Get down here.” He giggles when Gerard gracelessly tumbles on top of him, trapping him beneath his heavy frame, fingers immediately pushing into his hair.

“Your hair is getting long,” he mumbles between pressing fluttering kisses to his neck. “I like it.”

Sergio sighs happily. “Aren’t you gonna open the note?” he asks, his voice already a little breathless.

Gerard pulls back just enough so that their eyes meet, his gaze curious. “Should i be scared?”

“Just look at the damn thing,” Sergio smiles and he doesn’t miss how Gerard’s fingers shake a little as he unfolds the small slip of paper and he can tell the precise moment Gerard gaze finds the writing at the bottom, just from the way his eyes widen and his expression softens.

“Do you really mean that?” he asks and he sounds almost awe-struck.

“I do,” Sergio admits and it feels good to finally say it out loud, like a giant weight has been lifted off his chest now that it’s all out in the open. 

“I love you too,” Gerard whispers before he pushes their mouths together, the sensual slide of their lips making his spine tingle and his eyes flutter closed and he can’t help but moan into the kiss, his hips eagerly bucking against Gerard’s when their tongues finally meet.

“How much time do we have?” Gerard’s voice is rough when they eventually pull apart, both of them panting heavily, their bodies pressed flush together and Sergio wishes they could just spend the rest of the day in bed.

“I have to be at Las Rozas around noon,” he says regretfully, already withdrawing his hands from where they have snuck underneath Gerard’s towel, a displeased groan escaping him when Gerard rolls off of him. “I should probably go take a shower,” he mumbles weakly, but he makes no attempt at moving, only lying on his back, trying to will his body back under control.

Gerard adjusts the knot of his towel and takes a few calming breaths. He looks as pained as Sergio feels. “How about i make us breakfast and you drop me off at the airport later?”

Sergio pecks him on the lips before he swings his legs out of bed. “Sounds like a plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> I live for Kudos and Comments! Don't be shy, i usually don't bite :)


End file.
